


Paper Thin

by superpotterlock (fvalconbridge)



Series: Rebuilding the pieces of your heart [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Beta Derek, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Rebuilding the Hale House, and totally gets off on it, derek abusing werewolf powers to listen in on Stile' sexy time, derek and stiles are bad at words, derek overhears stiles masturbating, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1902039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvalconbridge/pseuds/superpotterlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's teeth are still digging into his lip as he shakily breaths through his nose in an attempt to keep quiet. He wants to hear every word, every sound that Stiles makes. His wolf is so in tune to him, it’s like the walls are paper thin, he doesn’t have to concentrate at all but he doesn’t want to miss a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Thin

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this as underage as at this point Stile's is 17 and is just about to turn 18.

Derek can’t sleep. He lies in his bed - well, it’s more of a mattress on the floor really, and stares at the ceiling. He tries not to listen to the unfamiliar sounds of the house, the wood is still settling on the new banisters and the high support beams and it creaks. It never used to creak here. He isn’t quite used to being back in his childhood home; it feels large and too empty. He needs to get used to it but he doesn’t want to.

 

The pack are all graduating this year and have all made plans to go to college. He will be left here with Peter. Alone. Scott is a good alpha, better than he ever was and he has promised Derek that the house will be ready before they leave, that everyone will have a pack home to come back to and Derek really likes the idea of the house being full again.

 

It will be a few months before the house is liveable for everyone but at least the walls are back up and insulated. There are new windows and doors and the roof has been repaired, but it’s still the shell of a house and bare. It smells of paint and plaster but he’s gotten used to it.

 

He’s been sleeping in the attic for a few weeks now, separating himself from the pack and trying to get used to the idea of being alone again. But tonight he isn’t going to be alone, he can hear Stiles’ jeep pulling up and then the click of the front door unlocking and relocking. He doesn’t know why Stiles keeps doing this, turning up here in the middle of the night, but he likes to think that he knows Derek is going through a hard time and that he really doesn’t want to be alone.

                                  

Derek can hear him stumble around and he can’t help but smile at the imagery when he hears a muffled, “fuck!” They haven’t reconnected the electricity supply yet, so Stiles  slowly creeps up the stairs in the dark and into one of the empty bedrooms underneath Derek's.

 

It’s quiet again after a few minutes, and Derek closes his eyes again, relaxes. He feels slightly better now he knows he’s not by himself in the house; that someone from the pack is going to sleep safely in their new home with him.

 

It takes Derek a while to realise there is something different. He usually drifts to sleep listening to Stiles; each relaxed breath, him tossing and turning as he tries to get comfortable and the sound of his slightly accelerated heartbeat; it has all become a comfort to him. But now, Stiles lies still in on the bed, barely moving, though his heartbeat is jittery as if there is something wrong. Derek frowns at the ceiling and debates going downstairs to check on him. It crosses his mind that he might be crying. But he may have come to Hale House to find some peace, so Derek remains in bed, wondering what’s happened, but also knowing that he’s not close enough to Stiles that he’s confident enough to move and find out.

 

He settles again and ignores him, fools even himself to thinking that he’s asleep.

 

He’s just starting to drift off, hypnotised by the sound of Stiles’ breathing when a change to the rhythm shocks him awake. Stiles' breath hitches and he lets out a shaky exhale. It sounds as if he’s trying to breathe normally but he can’t. Derek licks his lips as he feels his mouth go dry, he thinks he knows  what's happening.

 

At least, he suspects.

 

He gasps softly at his discovery, and wide eyed, he listens. He lies still in his room and tries to block out the sounds from outside, the wind and the rustle of leaves, until eventually, he hears it again. Derek strains to listen as he feels himself start to respond, his cock starts to swell in his pyjama pants, already interested from that one small sound.

 

Stiles’ is young and kind and caring, _beautiful_. Derek has always had a soft spot for him. He has always desired him. Before now, Derek has never given into the temptation, never given into the smell of arousal that smothers Stiles’ natural scent when they are alone. He knows that it’s just hormones, but Derek lets himself drown in the fantasy that Stiles is touching himself in the room under his deliberately, that he knows that Derek will hear him.

 

 Derek suddenly freezes, his chain of thought broken.

 

The sound of Stiles’ metal zipper on his jeans is deafening as it opens and Derek is horrified and more than turned on to realise that his wolf has focused on Stiles completely, he can hear him so clearly that it sounds as if he’s right in the room with Derek.

 

Stiles is in fact lying directly underneath him, and Derek turns on his side and presses his ear against the mattress, desperate to hear if he’s right or if he’s delusional from lack of sleep. He licks his lips and concentrates, but it’s hard to hear over the loud and unsteady beat of Stiles’ heart rate which he has unintentionally latched onto. It’s difficult to unfocus on it, but he pushes it to the back of his consciousness and tries to listen for something more, something that will tell him that he’s not crazy.

 

He hears Stiles whimper, the sound is soft and broken as if he’s biting into his lip to try and stop the sound. And there’s the rustle of the sheets moving, of his nails scratching against the material as he grips it.

 

Derek screws his eyes shut and knows that he is powerless to control himself. It’s been so long since he has done something purely for himself, so long since he has felt the touch of a lover. So when he can hear Stiles’ shuddering breath as he wraps his hand around himself, his own hand takes a similar path. He strokes down the plain of his flat stomach and tries not to feel like he is taking advantage of the young man who is comfortable enough to pleasure himself in their house.

 

Derek tries not to think about how wrong it is, tries not to guess who Stiles is thinking about as he touches himself. Instead, he strokes his own cock until he’s painfully hard and leaking precome all over his fist. He imagines what Stiles looks like, thinks about him spread naked on the bed under his and thinks about touching his cock. He knows Stiles is a virgin, but wonders if he’s ever let anyone suck him, he thinks about the heady scent of Stiles’ arousal and imagines swallowing his cock, tasting him. He wanders if he can make Stiles gasp and moan louder than he is now, since he’s clearly holding back.

 

Derek rolls back onto his back and kicks his pyjama bottoms off, frustrated with the confinement of them.

 

He wraps his left hand around his cock and watches it disappear through the tight circle of his fist; Stiles’ fingers are longer than his own and he imagines them wrapped around his dick, he adjusts the grip, really thinks about how Stiles would touch him – awkward and with a frantic and broken rhythm, too excited at the prospect of making him come.

 

He likes to think that young man would be impressed by his size, likes to think that he would never fit it all in his mouth so he would have to jerk him as he sucked. Because Stiles’ has such a pretty mouth that it would be a crime not to fuck it, and it’s not just physically attractive, that mouth is like sin, spitting out witty, intelligent banter. Derek would push his dick inside and shut him up, turn him into a babbling mess that wouldn’t be able to get out his next sarcastic remark.

 

Underneath him, Stiles moans, and it fuels Derek’s desire. His dick is dripping sticky pearls of precome onto his stomach

 

There is no mistaking what Stiles is doing, he can hear him fucking into his own fist, a steady stream of sound falling from his lips.

 

_“God, please._ _”_

 

The hair on Derek’s neck stands up and he freezes, it’s as if the words have been whispered right into his ear.

 

_“Fuck m... just like that._ _”_

 

He bites into his lip hard enough to break the skin to stop himself from howling. Begging to be fucked this close to the full moon is not one of Stiles’ better ideas... or maybe it is. Maybe he wants Derek to hear him, wants him to go downstairs and claim him, fuck him, _mate_ him.

 

 _“Need it so bad, want_ you _so bad._ _”_

 

God, just at the thought of fucking Stiles, Derek moans.

 

 He feels slightly in awe just at the idea of Stiles letting him do it, of Stiles looking at him and needing him. He would have to work him open so good so he could fit inside. Derek would bury his face into Stiles’ ass and lick him open and finger him until he was open and sloppy and begging for Derek’s dick.

 

Derek strokes his cock harder, teeth still digging into his lip as he shakily breaths through his nose in an attempt to keep quiet. He wants to hear every word, every sound that Stiles makes. His wolf is so in tune to him, it’s like the walls are paper thin, he doesn’t have to concentrate at all but he doesn’t want to miss a thing.

 

Derek’s going to come, he can feel his body start to tense, arousal and pleasure are swirling in his stomach and his senses feel they they are on fire, sensitive to every little touch and sound. God,  he-

 

_“Oh shit._ _”_

 

Stiles’ voice is high and breathy, desperate.

 

 _“I_ _’m gonna come,_ _”_ he gasps.

 

 Derek finds himself nodding, agreeing with Stiles and blinded by his own pleasure, just a little longer, he needs to hear it happen. He needs-

 

_“Oh fuck, Derek._ _”_

Derek seizes up, his body bowing in on itself as he comes fucking everywhere, his wolf is practically howling in delight at the words.  He struggles to stay quiet, gasping for breath as his orgasm rips through him, he tries to listen for Stiles’ but he can’t hear anything. He collapses a few seconds later, trembling in the aftershock.

 

He expects to feel guilty for listening in, to be quickly sobered by his wrong actions, but he hasn’t felt this alive in a long fucking time. Derek lies in bed in pure bliss, grinning a wolfy smile. Because Stiles had known he was listening, Stiles had purposely done this to Derek. He knows what Derek was doing while he listened, after all, he meant for it to happen... but he doesn’t know that Derek has figured this all out yet.

 

Well, two can play at that game.

**Author's Note:**

> Like my fics? Check out my [website!](www.faith-valconbridge.squarespace.com) And my [blog!](http://superpotterlock.tumblr.com/)


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